


The Rubdown

by Pomander



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bone Terminology, Fleshy Gaster, I mean Gaster has skin, M/M, Massage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sensitive bones, and muscles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 02:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6593338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pomander/pseuds/Pomander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaster treats a tired Sans to a massage, and they both get a little worked up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rubdown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnguisReginam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnguisReginam/gifts).



> Happy birthday, AnguisReginam! Hope you like it, and the Second chapter will be coming soon!

"Alright, Sans! How about we work some magic on those tired bones of yours?"

Sans straightened his posture, but continued typing at his desk. "The kind of magic you can work while I finish what I'm working on, or...?"

Gaster placed his hand on Sans's shoulder, and the typing stopped. "I mean we're going to my house, and I'm going to take care of you like you take care of me when I'm tired."

"I'm not that tired." Sans smiled wider. It looked more like a grimace than a grin.

"You can say no," said Gaster, sliding his hands over Sans's shoulders lightly, "but I think you should definitely consider taking a short break, you've been at that screen for hours now." He traced one finger down the skeleton's spine.

Sans shivered and sighed, enjoying the sensation of Gaster's fingers brushing over him. It felt pretty good. "Your place, right?" he asked, "I'll take us there."

                                                                                   ~***~

One magical shortcut later and Sans was pushed gently down onto Gaster's bed. The doctor pulled a small bottle of viscous purple liquid from his pocket, and gave it a couple of shakes before setting it down on the bedside table. Sans tilted his head to get a better look.

"It's a massage oil," Gaster said as he slipped off his coat. "Now, would you like me to strip you, or would you rather do it yourself?"

"Heh, knock yourself out." Sans propped himself up on his elbows and grinned as the doctor loomed over him. He was compliant as his coat was slipped over his shoulders and cast aside, but resisted a little when Gaster grabbed for the hem of his shirt, tensing his arms and making it near impossible to get the thing off. He smiled impishly.

Gaster leaned close. "If you would rather keep your shirt on," he whispered, his face mere inches from Sans's, "please just say so, and I'll leave it." Oh right, Gaster was trying to do something nice for him. There was no need to make things difficult.

Sans relaxed his posture, mumbling a soft ' _sorry_ ', and was rewarded with a kiss, Gaster's mouth pressing into his own. Sans parted his teeth to let Gaster in, and Gaster's tongue danced with his as he felt his shirt being slowly pulled up. They parted briefly as the shirt was pulled over his head, catching their breath for a moment before returning passionately to each other. Sans let Gaster's tongue slide to the back of his throat, as his body was pushed back onto the bed.

He felt the doctor fumbling distractedly with the button of his pants for a moment before undoing them, then lifted his hips, pressing his pelvis forward into Gaster as his pants and shorts were pulled down in one go. Gaster pulled away, his eyes hazy, and he cast Sans's britches to the side carelessly, still staring, his eye contact unbroken. Sans felt chills rush over his bones at how hungry the doctor looked as he reached for the little bottle on the bedside table.

"Are you ready?" the doctor asked. Sans watched the contents of the bottle spill into his hands, dripping over his fingers, and nodded, mesmerized. Gaster capped the bottle and rubbed his hands together, spreading the oil around. He began at Sans's feet, sliding his nimble fingers between each phalange, and Sans tilted his head back and sighed, letting his breathing slow and taking in the faint scent of the oil, something woody and floral. He chuckled and groaned as Gaster pressed more insistently, working over his tarsals and up to his ankles.

The slick fluid allowed Gaster's hands to slide effortlessly over the surface of his bones, and he relished the pressure and the slight friction of the doctor's palms at points where they were almost dry. When that happened, Gaster would pause, keeping one hand on Sans as he reached for the bottle to put more oil on, then he would slick up his hands and go over the area again.  
  
Sans was growing more tense the higher up Gaster got, the closer to his pelvis. It brought back memories of a game he and his friends would play back in school, coyly whispering ' _are you nervous yet?_ ' with their hands pushed into each other's laps, testing sensitivity and figuring out their limits. But there was nothing coy about Gaster's face as he pushed his palms along the length of Sans's femurs. His expression was as relaxed and clinical as if he were carefully folding a sheet of paper, or threading a needle, instead of making his lover sweat and groan.

He met Gaster's eyes briefly as fingers wrapped around the outside of his pelvic bone, sliding over the iliac crest. The doctor was smiling, rubbing his thumbs into the side and back of Sans's pelvis, everywhere but the front. He skipped up to the spine, and Sans drew in a ragged breath, now more turned on than Gaster probably realized; there was an ache in his pubis that was hard to ignore with Gaster's body over his, with his nimble fingers slipping into every divot of his vertebrae. He arched his back and closed his eyes, trying to keep his breathing steady as he was worked over.

Gaster slicked his hands up again, then turned his attention to the ribs, pressing his fingertips firmly along their length, dipping briefly into the spaces in between as he moved upwards. Sans shuddered and clenched his teeth. Gaster's pelvis was right over his own, and the urge to push forward and grind against him was so hard to resist. He stretched his arms up over his head to give better access to his scapulae when the doctor reached them, and was surprised when he felt something firm press between his legs as well. He glanced down and confirmed that Gaster was indeed sporting an erection, and looked back up to see a dark flush spreading across the doctor's cheeks, as thumbs wrapped around the back of his clavicle.

Of course, Gaster's face was otherwise still set in an ' _I do this every day, nothing to worry about_ ' sort of expression, but Sans felt better knowing he wasn't the only one affected. He leaned up slightly, tilting his head and closing his eyes, and Gaster took the hint and leaned down to kiss him deeply.

Sans took the opportunity to slide his hands down to Gaster's hips, gripping them tightly before grinding his pelvis up into the doctor's erection. Gaster shuddered and moaned into his mouth, pressing into him in return. He pulled back and watched Sans's phalanges drag down the flesh of his thighs.

"I had intended for this to be a relaxing experience, I swear," he gasped, dragging his own fingers down the bumpy surface of Sans's ribcage.

"I'm very relaxed," Sans replied, his voice low and throaty. "No tension at all. I feel like a million bucks. You seem to have gotten yourself worked up though." He winked.

"Is there anything else you'd like me to massage, while I've got you here?" Gaster asked. Sans was rubbing his thumbs in slow circles over his hips, and he let out a small noise of approval.

"Yeah, if you could, um," Sans traced his fingers over his pubis, to the spot Gaster had neglected, "here?"

Gaster obliged eagerly, sliding his fingers over the bone with touches that were feather-light and teasing, the slightest inkling of electric sensation that just made him ache more. Sans moaned and pushed his hips forward, and Gaster's hands pulled back, keeping the light pressure constant.

"Please?" Sans breathed, "I just- god, harder, please?"

The doctor hummed and pressed his digits into the bone, rubbing them in tight, firm circles.

Sans gasped and writhed, the sensation almost too much for him to handle as Gaster's fingers ground into a particularly sensitive spot. "Ohh, fuck!" he groaned. His toes curled and he flung his head back pressing into the mattress as roughly as those hands were pressing into him.

He was rapidly coming to a climax, chest heaving, and when Gaster leaned down to kiss him, he lost control, and his orgasm hit him like a brick. He moaned loudly into Gaster's mouth and brought his hands down to the bed, tightly gripping the sheets beneath him as he was overwhelmed. "Hhhh, stop? Stop?!" he panted, pulling away.

The doctor ceased immediately, and placed his palms down on the bed to balance himself. "Are you alright?" he asked, worried.

"Great, I'm great! I'm-" Sans took a moment to catch his breath and gather a cohesive thought together. "Wow, fuck that was intense. Thank you, thank you so much." He brought one hand up to cup Gaster's face, and stared at him lovingly, eyes heavy-lidded.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Gaster whispered. He nuzzled Sans's forehead with his own and smiled. "Perhaps now, you'll get some well-needed rest? You're more than welcome to stay here."

Sans glanced down and saw that Gaster was still a bit wound-up, erection still straining against the fabric of his pants. "Maybe, yeah, but... I think I'd like to return the favor sometime... maybe in a minute or two?" He reached down and stroked the head gently, and Gaster Gasped. His bones were met with the slick sensation of precum, apparently the front of Gaster's trousers were soaked. "Wow, you got really excited over this." He said, teasingly.

"I did, but you don't have to _rub it in_ like that."

They both grinned.


End file.
